


All I Wanted was You

by dobrien



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, High School AU, High School Student Derek Hale, Jock Derek, M/M, Nerd Stiles, Pining Derek, Werewolf Derek, leaving notes, with a little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 06:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11480919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dobrien/pseuds/dobrien
Summary: High School AU based onthistumblr post in which Stiles is a nerd and Derek is a jock with a little crush. (The blog the post is on has automatically playing music.)





	All I Wanted was You

**Author's Note:**

> Just btw the repetition of "today was the day" is deliberate.

Today was the day. Today… was the day. The past week had been spent chickening out of sticking the note to Stiles’ locker. Why was Derek so scared? If he wasn’t interested, well, it would hurt, but Derek wasn’t sure if knowing was better than living with the possibility. Peering around the wall of lockers Derek watched as Stiles walked towards his and swallowing all his courage Derek took a few stealthy strides behind him and stuck the note to his bag before ducking back behind the wall.

As Stiles took a text book out of his locker he heard giggles from behind him and turned to see Allison and Lydia grinning from ear to ear. Stiles watched their eyes and his face flushed immediately, groaning. “What’s on my back?” He demanded to know, scowling at his friends. 

Allison gave her best innocent face while Lydia chose to smirk, though neither answered his question. Stiles’ heart sank, fearing the worst as he reached behind himself to tear off the note that he assumed had been taped to his back. One had been, he discovered, but it wasn’t a cliché “kick me” sign as he’d suspected. Instead, it was a note that had “call me” scrawled across it, signed _Derek_ and a number underneath. 

Lydia giggled again and patted Stiles’ shoulder. “Looks like you have an admirer, Mr Stilinski.” 

Stiles looked around to find the culprit, although he was already sure he knew who it was as there was only one Derek that he knew of in the school. Low and behold, Derek Hale showed his face from behind the wall and winked at Stiles before disappearing before Stiles could do anything about it.

Allison raised an eyebrow at her friend, impressed. “You’re a lucky guy, Stiles; Derek’s not dated since Paige moved away. You must have really made an impression.” 

Stiles still hadn’t said anything; he was having a hard time processing what had just happened. This was too much for a Monday morning.

At lunch, after Scott had been told all about the event that happened that morning, Scott pointed out where Derek was sitting, with his friend’s from the high school lacrosse team. Stiles scrawled down his reply to the note, too nervous to answer in person, and stood to his feet. 

“Good luck.” Lydia winked, and Scott gave his friend an encouraging shove forward when he didn’t move any further.

Stiles stumbled slightly from his friends shove, but regained his balance before he could hit the ground. When he reached Derek’s table he and his friend, who Stiles thought was called Isaac, looked up from their lunches. 

“Stiles…?” Derek questioned as Stiles stopped in front of the table, paper crumpling slowly as his grip tightened. Without saying a word Stiles dumped the note in front of Derek and ran back to his own table, face flushed.

Isaac looked over Derek’s shoulder, curious, as he unfolded the note. 

A couple of the lines were crossed out but underneath the scribble was an explanation stating that Stiles did not own a cell phone. 

Isaac laughed loudly, patting Derek’s shoulder. “That’s cute, Derek.”

Derek scowled at Isaac, resisting flashing his eyes at his friend, they were in a room full of other people, after all. “Shut up.” Was his intelligent reply, face reddening the more he looked at the note in front of him. 

“What’s your next move?” Isaac smirked, breaking off a part of the cookie he had been in the middle of eating. 

Derek sighed, thinking. “I have no idea.” Derek replied after a moment, lowering his head into his hands as he groaned loudly. 

“You could put a note on his locker. Ask to meet him on the lacrosse field after school.” Boyd replied from the other side of the table. Derek looked up at him and frowned in confusion. Boyd shrugged. “Why not be as cliché as possible, you’re already passing notes?” 

Derek chuckled, smiling to himself. “Do you have a piece of paper?” 

Boyd opened his bag and pulled out a notebook, ripping a page from the back and handing it over. Derek thanked him and took a pen from his pocket, writing out a new message. Before lunch was over Derek left the cafeteria early and made a beeline for Stiles’ locker, stopping short when he realised he didn’t have any tape. _Shit_. Derek paused briefly, looking around the corridor until he spotted the art department. He grinned to himself, entering the open door and rummaging around the desks until he found what he was looking for. Derek taped the note to Stiles’ locker and hurried to his next class before Stiles left the cafeteria. 

Scott followed Stiles to his locker when they had finished lunch, smirking when he noticed the paper stuck to it, already having an idea of who it could be from. Stiles bit his lip and carefully ripped the paper from the door of his locker and read over it. It said for him to meet Derek on the lacrosse field after school. 

“Should I?” Stiles asked his friend, handing over the note for him to read.

Scott rolled his eyes, “Duh!” 

Stiles huffed and took the note back, stuffing it into his locker and retrieving the book he needed. “What if it’s a prank?” 

“That’s just a stereotype.” 

“A stereotype means that it happens a lot.” Stiles replied, annoyed. 

Scott sighed, “Derek’s nice.” He shrugged, like it was a universally known fact. “He clearly likes you, Stiles.” 

Stiles nodded in reply, walking ahead of Scott to English.

Stiles bounced his leg as he waited for Derek, feeling stupid for standing around in the middle of a practically empty field. But Stiles waited. Half an hour of waiting and Derek still hadn’t shown up. “Worth a shot.” Stiles muttered to himself, picking his bag up off the grass and beginning to walk to the almost empty parking lot where his jeep was parked. 

“Stilinski!” Jackson shouted, walking towards Stiles with Danny not far behind him. 

“What do you want, Jackson?” Stiles sighed, really not in the mood for Jackson’s teasing. 

“Leave him alone, Whittemore.” Derek was jogging up behind them, looking rushed. 

“It’s not what it looks like Derek.” Danny replied, raising his hands in surrender, even though no one would have assumed _he_ was the one who was going to hurt Stiles. _Everyone_ likes Danny.

“Why’re you here then?” Derek asked, confused. 

Jackson rolled his eyes. “This fell out of Stiles’ locker. He ran out of school before I could tell him.”

“I was the one that noticed.” Danny shoved Jackson’s shoulder lightly. 

“Whatever.” Jackson chuckled. “Assumed you’d be here.” 

Jackson handed the note –the note Derek had left on his locker earlier- over to Stiles who took it gingerly. Derek flushed, embarrassed for assuming the worst, and Stiles flushed because now Jackson and Danny knew he was waiting for Derek to meet him. 

“Th-thanks.” Stiles nodded to the two boys, crumpling the paper in his hand.

They watched Jackson and Danny leave and were left standing in silence. Derek turned back to Stiles, a shy smile on his face. “Sorry?” He laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair.

“You came to meet me.” Stiles said, sounding almost amazed. 

Derek smiled brightly and reached out for Stiles’ hand, pulling him in a little closer by it. “I was talking to Coach, sorry I took so long.” He apologised. 

“So…” Stile scuffed his shoe, looking down at his feet, unable to meet Derek’s eyes. “You…”

“I like you Stiles.” Derek confirmed, biting his lip. “I’m guessing you like me too?”

Stiles nodded slowly, thinking. Derek looked away, as if to give Stiles some privacy, and after a moment his jacket was being gripped and Stiles was pulling him into a… very awkward but very sweet kiss. It didn’t last long as Stiles was quickly pulling away and stepping back to make space between them.

Derek wasn’t having any of that. He took a step forward, pulling Stiles in by his forearms, gripping tightly enough to show his intention but not enough to make Stiles feel like he couldn’t pull away. He kissed him less gently than Stiles has kissed him, hoping for this one to last longer. It did, but Stiles was still the first to pull away, a lighter blush covering his face.

Neither would ever admit it, but when they were lying in their separate beds in their separate homes, both their minds were stuck on the memory of the kiss. Neither got much sleep.

The next morning Stiles found a note taped to his locker, a note from Derek. _Date?_ It read, _Just say when and where_. Beside Derek’s name was a love heart. A goddamn _love heart_. Stiles tried his best to ignore Lydia and Allison who he could _feel_ were grinning behind him. “I’ve got to get a cell phone…” Stiles mumbled to himself, folding the note and slipping it between random pages of a text book.

For the time being, with no phone available, Stiles tore a page from his notebook, once seated in his first class, and scribbled back a reply to tape to Derek’s locker. _Meet me on Orchid Street at 7pm on Friday. If you’re late I’m not gonna wait!_. It was only as Stiles walked away from taping it to Derek’s locker after class that it dawned on him that he actually had to _go on a date_ , if Derek even showed up…

After school Stiles yelled a goodbye to Scott while rushing towards his Jeep, already feeling in a rush to get ready to meet Derek. He had no idea what he was going to wear or how dressed up to be or whether or not this was going to be a casual date… he wasn’t panicking, he swears. It took until a quarter to seven for Stiles to decide on a plain black shirt, he didn’t even have time to change from the pants he wore to school. 

“Off to see Scott, bye dad!” He yelled into the living room where his dad was watching the television. 

“Don’t be out too late!” Was his dad's reply. A small part of Stiles hoped he wouldn’t be home at all that night, but maybe that was getting a bit ahead of himself. 

Despite what he said in his note, Stiles did wait. An hour. Then an hour turned into two hours, and there was still no sign of Derek. “So was this a joke, then?” Stiles thought to himself as he watched the strangers around him, most now going home for the evening. He was sitting on the pavement, his feet hurting from standing for so long. Stiles wiped at his face when he felt his eyes well up, feeling ridiculous. He had waited _two hours_ , could he look any more desperate? 

He was about to stand to his feet and leave when a large teddy bear was being shoved towards him, and a shy “Hello.” Came from behind it. “I’m here to deliver a message from a completely useless guy who wanted to say he’s really sorry and right now he’s crying like an idiot so he can’t face you.” 

All Stiles could do was stare as the bear was moved to the side and Derek’s sheepish face was revealed. 

“I’m so sorry,” Derek bit his lip anxiously, “but there was an accident and huge traffic and I couldn’t call you… I hope you will forgive me.” Derek raised the bear as he finished rambling, shaking from side to side.

Stiles’ face was flushed crimson as the two boys stood up from the concrete, watching each other carefully. Derek looked so _scared_ that Stiles just couldn’t find it in him to be even remotely annoyed. He found himself pulling Derek in for a kiss at the same time as he was replying, “Of course I will!” holding onto Derek’s hoodie’s sleeves as best he could around the large bear squashed between them.

On the following Monday, Stiles couldn’t find it in himself to care about the people looking at him, because Derek’s arm was firmly around his shoulders, and that was comfort enough.


End file.
